


Red Phosphorus

by wayfindr



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, M/M, Violence, they are still apprentices and in training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 19:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17689241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayfindr/pseuds/wayfindr
Summary: Xehanort has never been able to properly express his emotions but Eraqus always knew when something was bothering him. However, this time, the stress of upcoming exams and Xehanort's unaddressed jealously, created a reaction that neither boy was prepared for.





	Red Phosphorus

“Woah, Eraqus! That’s so cool!” A girl, the same age as the boy in training, was bright eyed and bushy tailed at the appearance of the Eraqus’ new blade. He had received a few days ago in a quiet ceremony between himself, his family and his master, and today was the day he finally got to show it off. Master Defender was a right of passage in his family. A blade that was passed down through the generations when the time was right. And like any teenager, Eraqus was excited to show it off. 

“With that thing, you’ll definitely get the title of a master!” A boy commented from the back of the group. A handful of the students were trying to climb over one another to get a good look at the keyblade. Inheritance was rare nowadays, only a few people were given that honor, it was mainly saved for family units. 

But the academy had one rare exception. 

The striving goal for every student, outside of earning the name master, was gaining the headmaster's inheritance. To be bequeathed No Name. A gothic blade of black and silver that sat ominously on the walls of the common area, watching every student enter and leave, whispering words of temptation and promises of power to every willing listener. 

“He would get it even if he didn’t have the new blade!” A girl retorted, and the rest of the group seemed to agree, “I can’t wait to watch you in the fights!”

Xehanort was standing at the sidelines. He was leant up against the wall and had been quietly listening to the singing of the gulls before the other apprentices came barreling into the room. His hands twitched at the praises, his ears ringing as the singing grew louder. They really didn’t know when to shut up, did they? Weren’t lessons in session? Xehanort and Eraqus were the only too excused from lectures this time of the year, given this time was now designated for the preparation of their exams. 

“Alright, alright,” Xehanort’s voice interrupted the chatter. All the kids surrounding Eraqus froze, “You got the new toy, let's see how well you play?” A smirk stretched across Xehanort’s face. He summoned his own blade and pointed it towards his partner, “Well?”

The kids, who were all slightly afraid of Xehanort, scrambled away from the scene exiting the training hall through its large door. A few brave souls made snide remarks but most of them scampered past the duo in a flurry of colorful clothes and gossiping whispers. As soon as the door slammed shut, Eraqus turned to his friend, “So, you want to fight?” Eraqus questioned as he spun his keyblade, the chain clinking against the hilt. 

“You want to lose?” 

“Oh,” Eraqus whistled, “Do you?” 

Xehanort didn’t answer the question. With a smirk on his face and a quick sidestep, the light-haired boy was suddenly in front of Eraqus. But Eraqus reacted just as quickly, bringing his keyblade to block Xehanort’s swing. They danced around each other for several minutes. Eraqus couldn’t land any hits but he didn’t receive any ether. The new blade was heavier than his old one, longer too, and he was beginning to realize that it would take a little while to get used to it. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have challenged Xehanort when he was just fresh out of his ceremony.

Xehanort suddenly miss stepped and Eraqus took the opening. He swung his blade down and Xehanort moved to block it but wasn’t fast enough. Master Defender clipped the side of Xehanort’s blade and slammed into the older boys shoulder. Xehanort hissed and jumped back.

That was the first time Eraqus had ever landed a hit on him. 

“Woah, this thing does some real damage, huh?” Eraqus teased, raising Master’s Defender to his gaze. He ran a hand over the hilt and rotated it under the sunlight. Xehanort could feel the irritation rising in his chest. It was heating up steadily. First, it was a simmer, the verbal teasing igniting the flame underneath him. Then it started to bubble, moving steadily up his throat as he watched Eraqus examine the blade. And then it became a roaring boil, his head filling with steam. The anger began to leak from his mouth in incoherent mumbles and low growls. The playful attack from Eraqus had knocked the lid off of the pot and now the heat was spilling into the atmosphere. Eraqus did not know he was about to get burned.

“What’s wrong, Xeha? You can’t take a little hit?” Eraqus laughed lightly. He was bouncing on his toes hopping back and forth mockingly. It was easy to rowel up Xehanort. He had a short temper and snarky attitude but the teasing was always in good fun. When Eraqus realized that Xehanort wasn’t taking the bait his smile fell. He watched as the keyblade in Xehanort’s hand disappeared.

“Hey,” Eraqus paused, his grip on his own blade tightening, “you okay?”

Without a word Xehanort charged the younger boy, tackling Eraqus to the ground, slamming them both into the unforgiving floor of the training room. Master Defender slipped out of the younger boy’s grasp and slide across the marble floor before disappearing in a flurry of light.

The two boys were a tangle of limbs and wild hair. Xehanort scratched and clawed at the Eraqus, tugging the younger boy up by his coat in an attempt to head butt him. Eraqus gasped, barely missing the assault. Everything was happening far too quickly for him to process and before he could open his mouth to yell he heard a sickening crack. Xehanort’s fist had slammed into the floor but the older boy didn’t seem phased by it. He was to engrossed in his wild attack to even process physical pain. Eraqus kicked. Panic began to set in the moment he realized that Xehanort wasn’t messing around. Xehanort was strong when he wanted to be. And this was the first time Eraqus had ever seen him intentionally cause harm. 

“What is,” Eraqus tried to speak, but Xehanort threw another punch, this time clipping the side of the younger boy’s cheek before his fist went crashing into the marble again, “wrong with you!”

“You,” Xehanort hissed, “you are ‘what’s wrong with me.’” He continued his assault. Hypnotized by his own anger and was willing listening to its every command.

Eraqus, remembering his hours of combat training, grunted as he wrapped his legs around Xehanort’s waist. He hissed as another punch slammed into his cheek, but his determination to get Xehanort off of him distracted him from the pain and the obvious bruise blossoming across his face. Eraqus rocked the two of them until he gained enough momentum to turn them both over. Eraqus successfully switched their positions but knew he wouldn’t be able to hold the other down for long.

“Enough, Xeha!” Eraqus grabbed the older boys wrists and pinned them to the floor. He was gasping for breath. Between his spiked adrenaline, underlying fear and physical exhaustion, he was starting to have a hard time breathing. He prayed that the hold would knock some sense into Xehanort but it only seemed to make him angrier. The light-haired boy growled and thrashed, flailing his legs like a wild animal and screaming for him to let go. With a swift knee to the groin and twist of his wrist, Xehanort successfully bucked Eraqus off of him. Eraqus skid across the floor, when his body stilled he laid limp against the cool tile. He was trying to catch his breath. The world was spinning, the vibrant oranges and yellow of the walls melting into swirls. Eraqus’ eyes were blurred with tears, the pain finally settling into his system. He glanced towards Xehanort. The boy was just as disheveled as he was, his chest heaving as he marched towards him. Eraqus tried to roll out of the way but the light-haired boy had caught up with him. Xehanort climbed on top of him, hovering over his frame with a look of disgust in his eyes. Eraqus squirmed, fearing the bear’s claws would rip him to shreds if he weren’t fast enough. He turned his head away but Xehanort reached forward and snatched up a handful of Eraqus’ hair, which had fallen from its tail during their tussle, and forced the boy to look at him.  

“Why do you get everything,” Eraqus froze at Xehanort’s hiss. Xehanort had the younger boy successfully pinned to the floor. Using his hips to anchor the two of them in a locked position. If they weren’t fighting like cats, Eraqus was sure their master would be proud. Praise them on actually paying attention in training. 

Eraqus kept his mouth shut, afraid that the wrong word would set Xehanort off again.

“Why?” Xehanort whispered, “you have the blade. You get the family. You have that  _ title _ .” He hissed, his face twisted in agony, “why do you get all of that and I get  _ nothing _ .” He continued to mumble to himself, his threats fading in and out of cracking sentences and shaking lips.

“Xeha,” Eraqus felt the tanned boy’s grip loosen. Eraqus’ hair fell limp around his shoulders, the waves kinked and frizzed. He pushed himself up, balancing his weight on his elbows, “What are you talking about?” He asked, his voice laced with concern.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Xehanort mumbled. His head had fallen slightly, shadowing his face in a curtain of silver. His bangs covered his eyes, hiding the look of defeat on his face. Xehanort’s shoulders shook as he spoke, “You get everything.  _ Everything _ . The master adores you, puts you on a damn pedestal and praises you like some prince.” 

Xehanort chuckled, “But I guess that’s expected, given your  _ status _ .”

Eraqus’ was floundering, he didn’t know what to say. Xehanort had never expressed any serious distaste for him. They had always teased one another. It was banter that would be considered insulting to outsiders, but it was never taken seriously between the two of them. Eraqus sighed, maybe he should have held back a bit with the commentary. These past few weeks had been nothing less than stressful. They were under the watchful eye of their peers and their master. The Mark of Mastery exam was coming up, and if one wasn’t participating in it they were watching it from the sidelines. And all those eyes would drive anyone insane. Eraqus had just received his new blade as a reward for his improvements. Xehanort, however, had been gifted nothing, as he had no one, and was still stuck with the same keyblade he had joined the academy with. And Eraqus knew that that was a blow to his partner’s ego. 

Eraqus lifted an arm and tangled his fingers in Xehanort’s hair, cupping the back of his head. He pulled the older boy forward, ignoring the protest from the keyblade wielder as he brought him to settle into the crook of his neck.  

Xehanort growled and tried to pull back, “I don’t want your sympathy, Eraqus! I don’t care any—”

“Just shut up, Xeha.” 

Xehanort froze and after a few seconds, he fell limp in Eraqus embrace. Eraqus grunted slightly at the unexpected weight but held the both of them up with ease. Xehanort’s shoulders shook and Eraqus could feel his own shoulder grow damp with tears. He said nothing as the other cried into him. They were howling sobs and disjointed cries of anger and frustration. He didn’t need to say anything. He knew Xeha. He knew the boy had a hard time expressing his genuine emotions and with that often came the inability to properly handle stress. The crying was unusual for Xehanort but not unexpected. Everyone had a breaking point. 

They didn’t speak for several minutes. Both were waiting for the tears to stop and for their breaths to settle. 

“Don’t tell anyone about this,” Xehanort muttered. He had moved his hands to grip Eraqus’ jacket, clinging to the front of the boy like a child. This was both a moment of vulnerability and a moment of freedom. Two things Xehanort was not used to. 

“I won’t,” Eraqus said, “but you have to give me your dessert for a week.”

Eraqus grunted when Xehanort knocked his fist into his chest. He grumbled, pulling himself a bit closer to the dark-haired boy, “Fine, you idiot.”

Eraqus laughed. 

Hopefully, things would get better after their exams. 


End file.
